


Aldi, 10 am

by silver_devastation



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M, Second Person Singular, late night writing experiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_devastation/pseuds/silver_devastation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The red-headed man stops, looks at you, realization dawning. </p><p>“Oh. You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” </p><p>You are not sure if he is mocking you or honestly concerned—the drawl in his voice could go either way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aldi, 10 am

The note is unmistakable. 

You turn it around, but there is nothing else, just these two instructions: Aldi, 10 am. You look at your watch. Quarter to. 

You look around, look for a sign, look for something to give you a clear indication: Yes, do it. No, don’t. 

There is nothing.

You sigh. The feeling in your stomach is uncomfortable and heavy and you think you might need the toilet, but you’ve already been. Twice. This is ridiculous.

It takes ten minutes to get to Aldi. It is now about twelve minutes to. 

You think of the blond stranger who handed you the note. He seemed hurried, but kind. 

You get up, put on your shoes. 

You leave the house. 

 

When you sneak round the back of the Aldi, there’s no one there. Of course there’s no one there. You are not sure whether to feel relieved or upset. You look at your watch again. 

The moment you look up, there _is_ someone there all of a sudden, and you jump. 

The other guy laughs in a slightly unnerving way and looks you up and down shamelessly. He is skinny and a bit taller than you, wearing a school uniform. His hair is very red. 

“Did you get the note?” he asks, and you nod. You are not quite sure you can speak right now. The other man’s eyes have not left you yet. 

“Good,” he says. “Come with me.” 

He turns around. Looks like you should follow him. 

“Wait, what?” you say instead. 

The red-headed man stops, looks at you, realization dawning. 

“Oh. You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” 

You are not sure if he is mocking you or honestly concerned—the drawl in his voice could go either way. You try to sound tougher than you are:

“Would you care to enlighten me?” 

The red-head smirks. 

“Would I ever.” 

 

This fucking police box. Bloody hell.

Is this what it’s like to be abducted by aliens? 

These aliens seem very polite in any case, which is worth something, you think, even if you are not sure what. 

“I am the Doctor, and this is Turlough,” the blond stranger in the cricket whites says, handing you a cup of tea. You eye it suspiciously. 

So this is the skinny guy’s name. He is still looking at you curiously. 

“You really must forgive his terrible manners,” says the Doctor. “He is not too fond of this planet, and I promised not to take him back here, but you know how it is.”

You don’t at all, really, in fact, you feel dizzier the longer you’re stood in this absurdly white room with this strange humming noise all around, and the Doctor keeps talking, but you only catch half of it—something about old habits being hard to shake and only wanting to see Turlough happy, and Turlough is still smirking at you, leaning against the wall opposite, and you think he really is rather pretty, and you start wondering about the lean body below that school uniform, pale skin and muscle and hipbones, and— 

“So,” says the Doctor, and you have no idea what he’s just said. “Would that be something you’re interested in? I know it’s a lot to ask, but—”

You are not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, but it doesn’t matter. Not with the way Turlough is still looking at you. 

“Yes,” you say.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for pygmy-of-triviality, after he found a mysterious note in a book.


End file.
